Tears

It's hard to understand God's gift of tears.
For we who weep must surely think,
Despite their healing comfort, still,
Wouldn't it be the better thing
To hold back both the illness and the pill?

God says no.
As with every joy on earth,
Sorrow's bandage incompletes a wreath
Whose perimeter cannot be chalked
within the lifespan of a man.
So also with delight, desire,
Homesickness, hearth and health;
All of what we know as sadness
Is portion of some bigger thing
Whose furthest end we have not seen.
All together they comprise the thinnest part;
The stoney beach beside an ocean
Which also crashes on other shores
Whose tectonic moorings also radiate
Their sureness to the turf beneath our feet.
We are already in that world.
We see the sea as separation;
It is but one more tear beside these ones that fall into the sand.
And here, for now, God's gift:
A little water, the horizon, and his hand.